Illogically in Love
by The Readers Muse
Summary: He had noticed her, she had long since noticed him. She had changed, and he had noticed. What they needed was a catalyst, a jump-start.. A story of how our favorite Vulcan and Nurse finally crash together and into each others arms!
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer:**_ _**I am neither lucky, powerful, rich, or influential enough to own Star Trek. If I did I certainly wouldn't be sitting around fantasying about it. (Ha! Who am I kidding, I still would!) But regardless, everything and everyone belongs to their respective studio's, corporations, and companies. (God damnit!) And thus, I own nothing but my rabid plot bunnies and hopeless dreams, thank you very much!**_

**Authors Note #1:** While I am in the middle of writing four or five different stories at the moment this one was simply demanding to be told, resorting to even haunting my dreams in order to do so. Sometimes having an overactive imagination bites!

**Authors Note #2:** Unlike in a Zoo, please feel free to feed the author! Your reviews not only give me a warm fuzzy feeling inside, but they also help me improve myself. So yes, please read and review.

**Illogically in Love**

_**Chapter One - **_"_**And I refuse to believe that love is for the weak...  
....I'm not vulnerable..."**_

It was just minutes to 0600, with the day cycle barely begun, but the Mess hall was already crowded, buzzing with a seemingly unending flurry of activity. The room was nearly full, packed with those both fresh from the night shift, who were no doubt enjoying a light meal before retiring, as the crew of the day shift grabbed a hurried coffee and bite of breakfast before they were due to relieve the over-night shift.

However this morning the usually subdued conversation of the half-awake humans had been replaced with a sense of barely contained excitement. And the condition seemed infectious as the men and women of the USS Enterprise, from officer to yeoman alike were engaged in animated discussion, crossing from table to table with bits of toast and half-full coffee mugs as they compared plans and dates, their anticipation almost tangible.

In fact it seemed that there was only one person, who had thus far hardly moved more then to take a sip from his steaming mug of Vulcan herb tea. From behind veiled eyes he openly inspected his fellow crew members from his corner seat at the very edge of the room, the exaggerated arch of his brow the only outward evidence of his thoughts.

Raising his mug to his lips he took a small sip, savouring the slight bitter tang of the herbs as the fragrant blend stimulated his taste buds. While the increased volume and activity did little to bother him, he did find it curious as how in their excitement, the crew had seemed to forget their usual attitude of subdued austerity that they commonly adopted while in his presence. Instead today, they greeted him warmly as they passed their pleased expressions unguarded as they politely inquired as to his own plans.

He could always tell when shore leave was approaching simply by observing his crewmates. It was an emotional change that manifested itself into such a varying degree of physical behaviours that it left even him, a Vulcan well experienced in humanities rather strange...and diverse behaviours often at a loss to understand.

To him shore leave was a regular and inevitable aspect of space travel. And even the Enterprise, as busy and as far reaching as its missions were, had never missed a scheduled docking, whether it was at a Starbase or planet. Such layovers were a common way that Fleet command combined crew rest and relaxation, resupplying, and even crew transfers all at the convenience of space dock.

He viewed the entire experience as anything if not logical and monotonously common. However, the crew always seemed to enter a state of unpractical anticipation as the next date approached. A state he had found commonly resulted in a general attitude of distraction and restiveness that broached on being rampant ship-wide.

He thought of such behaviours as most illogical, but he surmised that it was likely a human facet, as even the Doctor and the Captain had exhibited similar signs throughout the past few days, even going as far as insisting he at least accompany them to Starbase 68's renowned officers club, "The Blue Nova." However Leonard had not been amused when he had pointed out that the possibility of a blue-coloured super nova occurring were less then favourable.

Regardless however, he had come to learn throughout their years of friendship that in cases such as these, when both Jim and Leonard joined together in order to persuade him of such things it was more logical to relent then to refuse.

However he abruptly ceased his introspection when an achingly familiar voice broke through his contemplative thoughts. _'Christine...' _His mind purred in recognition as his keen ears detected her voice in the corridor nearly a half a minute before the doors slid open to admit her.

She entered the Mess hall with Lieutenant Uhura in tow, both arriving in a flurry of blue and red uniform skirts. They were deeply immersed in what appeared to be a very animated discussion, the nurse's hands gesturing slightly as she talked, her light blue eyes sharp and clear as she focused on the conversation.

He unobtrusively watched as she passed, his eyes unabashedly caressing her form, as if memorizing her every feature. She seemed to almost flow through the door, her long, lean legs giving her the appearance of unparalleled poise and grace as she moved, her every step accentuating her soft curves, and her slender yet powerful figure. _'Her form was truly quite pleasing..' _He allowed himself briefly, far beyond any point of self reclamation as far as she was concerned.

He watched her through attentive eyes as they both halted at the closest replicator, her soft scent wafting through the recycled air, exciting his senses as his mind automatically categorized the scents. There was the pleasant scent of earth flowers, and a hint of rich vanilla, the faint but still detectable tang of lab chemicals that mixed together with her own distinctive, natural scent. It was a strange...illusive smell that he forced himself not to dwell on, not welcoming the...uncomfortable sensations that accompanied such thoughts. It was soft, yet at the same time bold. It was pleasantly unique musk, a scent that simply screamed its femininity and strength. _It was unquestionably Christine..._

Looking down abruptly he realized his tea was rapidly cooling and raised his mug to his lips for another sip, looking nothing if not calm and collected as always while the very object of his attention bid a departing Uhura goodbye, and after looking around for a seat, set out for his table....

_**A/N: Well it is up to you guys, do you think this merits continuing? Review and let me know!**_

_**A/N: My chapter title is lyrics from Thriving Ivory's song: "Hey Lady". The band is awesome; check them out on youtube or what not!**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Disclaimer:**__** I am neither lucky, powerful, rich, or influential enough to own Star Trek. If I did I certainly wouldn't be sitting around fantasying about it. (Ha! Who am I kidding, I still would!) But regardless, everything and everyone belongs to their respective studio's, corporations, and companies. (God damnit!) And thus, I own nothing but my rabid plot bunnies and hopeless dreams, thank you very much!**_

**Authors Note #1:** While I am in the middle of writing four or five different stories at the moment this one was simply demanding to be told, resorting to even haunting my dreams in order to do so. Sometimes having an overactive imagination bites!

**Authors Note #2:** Unlike in a Zoo, please feel free to feed the author! Your reviews not only give me a warm fuzzy feeling inside, but they also help me improve myself. So yes, please read and review.

**Illogically in Love**

_**Chapter Two - "And I wait, for your invitation...  
And I'm so so so, so over waiting **_"

Making no effort to veil his gaze, he watched her openly as she crossed the room, sensing the moment of connection between them as their eyes met. She was hailed by numerous tables as she flowed by, her dirty blond curls flashing brightly in the overhead lights as she turned to acknowledge them, sometimes stopping for a moment to speak, but always smiling and waving off their invitations in favour of his silent one.

And while the feeling that resulted from this action was foreign...and illogical to him, it did not take away from the fact that she had still chosen to seat herself with him, and not anyone else. _Perhaps he had been among humans too long after all.._

"May I join you Mister Spock?" She asked, her voice raised slightly to be heard amidst the crews exuberant conversation, as she poised over him with a meal tray evenly balanced in both hands, a small smile playing on her lips.

"Of course, please join me, Miss Chapel." He replied, politely half-rising in his chair until she settled herself across him, one of the only Terran customs his mother had insisted he adopt.

"It's Christine, please." She replied automatically, long used to his formal demeanour, but smiling regardless.

"Busy in here this morning." She said conversationally, sweeping back one of her long brownish curls as she stirred a measure of sugar into her coffee. He had come to notice, through similar occurrences such as this, that Christine preferred a different way of fixing her coffee depending on her mood. This practise, he had noted, was much unlike his other colleagues habits, as for example, since he had known the Doctor, he had never seen him drink anything else but plain black coffee, always drinking it piping hot and strong enough to twitch even _his_ nostrils.

Today it appeared that she was in a pleasant mood, and thus only putting two cubes of sugar in her drink, sighing pleasantly as she breathed in the potent brew. He had however known there to be days were she had put nothing at all in her coffee, drinking it as strong and as black as Leonard's, a day which had coincidentally resulted in the good Doctor coming out of Sick bay looking absolutely thunderous, shaking his head and muttering: "Hell hath no fury indeed!"

"Indeed." He commented simply, taking another sip of tea as she dug into her breakfast. "Do you have any plans for shore leave?" He asked after a healthy pause, noticing minutely how the ships lights illuminated her fair skin, causing it to nearly glow in the bright overhead lights.

"Well, Starbase 68 isn't exactly Risa, but I am sure there will be enough to keep us all occupied." She replied with a grin. "I promised Uhura I would go shopping with her, apparently level three hundred alone as over eighty shops. But other then that I think I will just wander about and enjoy the change of scenery. What about yourself?" She offered, her fork gesturing minutely as she inquired.

"The Captain and the Doctor have...requested I accompany them to the "Blue Nova" once we make dock at 20:00 hours." He replied, watching a knowing grin break out on her soft features.

"Ah yes, I heard about that. Leonard was all but doing a victory dance in the supply closet yesterday. I certainly hope you didn't make it easy for them this time." She teased, her eyes sparking with humour, a trait so human and illogical, seemingly somehow so very appropriate on her face.

It wasn't until after the tall nurse had bid him goodbye and headed off to sick bay to start her shift that he had finally allowed himself to ponder on his current predicament. _On Miss Christine Chapel.._

He couldn't accurately say when her feelings towards him had changed, but changed they had. Gone was the shy, quiet, and reserved woman he had become accustomed to. The woman who had been so desperate to please him and win his affections had been replaced by a confident, open, and charismatic personality. As Leonard had coined it, not too long after the noted transformation: "A spitfire of a woman." And, when he had given the matter further thought, comparing his observations and watching the woman closely, he was now sure that this 'new' woman was indeed the _true_ Christine Chapel, no longer restrained and held back by the restrictions she had put upon herself in order to please him.

And while he had no idea why, or even when this change had occurred, he did know when he had first noticed it. It had been the physical aspect he had noticed first, he had entered sick bay one afternoon, intent on discussing a personnel related issue with the Doctor when she had strolled past. She had hardly paused long enough to send him a friendly, but brief greeting before continuing on her way, seemingly entirely unconcerned by his presence. Her appearance too had changed, gone were the platinum blond tresses, and in their place was a mix of natural light brown curls and a softer shade of blond streaked together.

He had slowed his stride, covering his unexplainable surprise with only a quick arch of his brow, but turning nonetheless to watch her disappear around the corner and into the biological labs. _She had even walked differently...more confedient..self assured._

And as illogical as it was, this _new _Christine Chapel _had_ caught his eye, piked his interest, and served to both confound him and attract him at every turn. For years this woman had sought to garner his attentions, wearing her love for him as clearly as if she has been holding up a banner and proclaiming it to the entire universe.

However, while he had noticed her affections, and on occasion even noticed her on a physical level, she had failed to appeal to him mentally, failing to spark the level of connection, intimacy and desire that was essential between true-heart mates, such as the relationship his mother and his father still shared to this very day.

But now, _this_ Christine Chapel had done just that. And the irony of this happening now had not failed to occur to him, because it seemed, that despite the occasional lunches, the scientific experiments they worked on together, and the easy friendship that had developed between them throughout the past few months that the head nurse had moved on, no longer regarding him romantically.

And no matter how long nor how deeply he meditated, he found that could not rid himself of this strange feeling of regret and anxiety. Not when his mind now sought hers, seeking through the dark, empty space that had suddenly opened in his mind, a place that before her he had never known had laid so empty..

_**A/N: Well it is up to you guys! Would you like another chapter? Review and let me know!**_

_**A/N: My chapter title is lyrics from Thriving Ivory's song: "Hey Lady". The band is awesome; check them out on youtube or what not!**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Disclaimer:**_ _**I am neither lucky, powerful, rich, or influential enough to own Star Trek. If I did I certainly wouldn't be sitting around fantasying about it. (Ha! Who am I kidding, I still would!) But regardless, everything and everyone belongs to their respective studio's, corporations, and companies. (God damnit!) And thus, I own nothing but my rabid plot bunnies and hopeless dreams, thank you very much!**_

**Authors Note #1:** While I am in the middle of writing four or five different stories at the moment this one was simply demanding to be told, resorting to even haunting my dreams in order to do so. Sometimes having an overactive imagination bites!

**Authors Note #2:** Unlike in a Zoo, please feel free to feed the author! Your reviews not only give me a warm fuzzy feeling inside, but they also help me improve myself. So yes, please read and review.

**Illogically in Love**

Chapter Three - "_**Hey lady, don't give up on me..Don't burn your heart out love  
..Till we're ash over seas **_"

He didn't see her again until the Enterprise docked at Starbase 68, and the first rotation of crew had been released from duty for some well earned rest and relaxation. He himself was not due for his rotation until sometime later, but had headed over to the Starbase along with Mister Scott to oversee the restocking of the ships reserve parts and replication equipment.

He had looked up and spotted her amongst the crowd of men and women streaming out from the main doors and into the Starbase's adjoining corridor, her presence making him once again dwell on the matter he was facing, that for one of the first times in his entire life, he found himself unsure of how to solve this delima..Unsure of even where to start it would seem. _And he was a man that was rarely unsure about anything.._

She had let her long hair hang loose, releasing a cascade of light brown and blond curls to flow down in loose ringlets just past her shoulders, her every movement causing them to shift and flow, sparking in the bright lights. He let the conversation between Mister Scott and the stations Andorian quartermaster continue without his attention, caught up instead on watching as she weaved through the crowds, standing out like a beacon on a foggy Earth evening.

She had changed out of her uniform and had instead donned a pair of tight black pants that flared around the ankle, and a flattering red peasant blouse with a demure, yet tasteful v-neck. He had rarely seen her out of uniform, and indeed could not recall a time that such a change had ever affected him so greatly.

The entire idea was illogical of course, throughout his years as Jim's first officer, he had been in the company of atheistically pleasing young women numerous times before, with most wearing such gowns and outfits that would have allured even the most love-wary suitor, ones that likely cost double his monthly salary as well.

And yet, this young and _very_ human woman, dressed in only a simple pair of black pants and a red blouse had somehow come to charm him, breaching his mental barriers and enveloping his mind in a fog of ancient desire, passion, and possessiveness. All mere hints of the more violent emotions of his Vulcan ancestors, stemming back to the dark times, before logic and reason, where bond mates had expressed their passions and emotions freely and without shame and ridicule.

His mental barriers whipped down like emergency bulkheads, an action that took nearly all his mental strength as he sought for control over his mixed nature, unsure of if this was a fault of his logic, or a human weakness that he was susceptible too...he had never before felt this way...felt so strongly and so deeply about someone, and yet remain so conflicted as to what to do about it. _He did not like this uncertainty, this doubt...this unfulfilled desire and want. _

Merely _letting _himself experience it went against almost everything he had ever been taught, everything he valued and held dear. And yet, even as she noticed him from amidst the crowd, and winded her way slowly towards him, her hand stacked with a number of data pads, he paused to wonder if this might have been what his father had experienced upon courting his mother, this strange illogical, foreign feeling..

Perhaps it was simply the risk any discerning Vulcan had to bear when they sought a human for a bond mate. And yes, that was what he had come to realize he truly desired. To have Christine within him, connected through thought, matter, feeling, and what a human would call the soul..

He wanted to possess her in the ancient ways of his people, to bond with her like his father had with his mother..Christine was his hearts mate, his match, a person that would complete him in every way and bring them both to a level of understanding and completion that transcended any other type of bond.

He shook himself out of his thoughts the exact moment she reached him, forcing himself back to the task at hand, his head inclined as he eyed the stack of information chips in her small, long fingered hand.

"Sorry these are late, Mister Spock, the Doctor had a few last minute requisitions he wanted to add, and I offered to save him the trip and take them out here myself. I hope you don't mind?" She explained, her voiced slightly breathless after dodging and flitting her way through the mess of people to get to him.

"Not at all Miss Chapel, Mister Scott has only just updated the data banks, and there are still a number of departments that have yet to submit their final counts." He replied simply, meeting her eyes and holding them as she gazed strongly back, her thoughts concretely veiled behind the sapphire prisons of her eyes. And not for the first time since he had laid eyed on the head nurse, he desired to be privy to those intimate thoughts..

They stood in awkward silence for a moment as she made no move to leave, the heels of her brown leather sandals clacking hollowly on the metal floor as she hesitated, swaying slightly on her feet as she shuffled closer to him to let the growing crowd by, so close that a wayward curl brushed against his uniform sleeve. Her scent rising in his mind when he couldn't help but breathe her in. _Deeply._

Finally she cleared her throat, her eyes heated as she looked up at him again. "Well, I guess I should be going, I promised Uhura I would meet her at level three hundred in a few minutes..But I suppose I will see you around?" She asked questioningly, her brow furrowing slightly as she spoke, her eyes searching, as if she was attempting to figure out something vitally important.

"Undoubtedly." He responded with a nod. "Perhaps tonight when I attend the 'Blue Nova?' He asked. "Unless you and Lieutenant Uhura have other plans?" He finished, having thought quickly and posed the invitation in way of a casual remark, attempting to get level view of the situation between them by how she responded, unsure if she had discerned that he had really meant.

However, it appeared she hadn't heard a word he said, ignoring him completely as she wheeled around, gazing intently behind her, her own head slightly cocked as she listened intently, as if attempting to hear something above the rising babble of the growing crowd.

He wasn't sure what alerted him to it, but quite suddenly, just as he was about to ask what was wrong, something deep in the very darkest regions of his instinctual memory, screamed for him to look up, piercing his well kept shields and nearly causing him to stumble backwards with the sheer force of the thing..

He didn't resist it, unconsciously complying with that instinctual, inner part of himself without a moments hesitation. _Something that if he were in any other state, with any other person, he would have certainly resisted, subduing his ancient nature back under his iron band of control, and logic. But not this time, not when his mind was so clearly screaming for his attention, and not with Christine..._

But it appeared that he didn't need his eyes to know that something had happened, that something had changed. Because before he had even looked up, he sensed the very second the man entered the room, pinpointing also the moment the others surrounding them noticed as well, sensing the resulting ripples in the atmosphere of the meeting area as the rooms mood changed around them.

Saying that the man was attractive was an understatement; he was strikingly handsome, turning the heads of both men and women alike as he strode confidently into the room. He was likely the most striking human male he had ever seen, standing as tall as himself, dressed in a tasteful black sports coat and a baby blue silk undershirt. His smile was as devastating as the small smattering of freckles that peppered the skin on his arms where the rolled up cuffs of his sleeves revealed lightly tanned flesh. His hair was a shocking mix of natural auburn reds, styled just on the shy side of fly-away and shaggy, as if he simply rolled out of bed and hadn't touched his hair at all.

He was startled out of his observations when Christine audibly gasped, listing slightly away from him, as if she was seconds away from a dead faint, staring unblinkingly at the mysterious man from across the room. But just as he was about to reach for her and inquire as to the cause of this strange behaviour, she broke away from him, pulling off his inquiring hands and pushing away from the offer of shelter he had been about to willingly provide.

Instead of on her slight shoulders, his hands fell useless and empty at his sides as she moved forward, towards the red haired man who had just angled himself against a bulkhead, leaning carelessly up against it, hands slung in his pockets as his eyes casually searched the crowd.

And then, through all the noise and excited babble that echoed throughout the meeting area, he heard her, her voice taking on a tone that he had never before heard her use. It was breathless, and excited, tinged with hope and disbelief, going slightly high pitched in the end in a way that made him nearly squirm where he stood. A voice that he suddenly decided had no business being heard by _anyone..._ at the very least, not in such a public place.

"Jethro...?!" She queried, gazing across the room at the red-haired man as if he was the only person in the room, her mouth falling open as one of her hands reached forward, clutching at the empty air as her fingers moved, as if unconsciously seeking contact. _But not to him, to the stranger..._

The man must have had nearly as keen hearing as his own, because his head whipped forward, following the sound of her voice until they caught each others eyes from across the room, a smile as blinding and as big as an exploding super nova blossoming over his handsome face when he saw her, transforming his brilliant, bright green eyes into heated fires of emerald.

"CeeCee!!" He yelled back, his voice vibrant with laughter and happiness, taking a step forward and extending his arms towards her. But she needed no invitation, within seconds she had lunged through the crowd, her handbag falling to the floor as she launched herself into the air and into his embrace. She threw herself into him with all the passion and familiarity of a lover, leaping through the air to wrap her legs around his waist, burying her face into his shoulder as excited, wordless noises escaped her lips as words failed them both...

_**A/N: Did you like this chapter? Review and let me know!**_

_**A/N: My chapter title is AGAIN lyrics from Thriving Ivory's song: "Hey Lady". The band is awesome; check them out on youtube or what not!**_ _**I am sure you are picking up on a trend right now, and yes, I am currently obsessed with Thriving Ivory..and I am definitely NOT sorry! Ha!**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**Disclaimer:**__** I am neither lucky, powerful, rich, or influential enough to own Star Trek. If I did I certainly wouldn't be sitting around fantasying about it. (Ha! Who am I kidding, I still would!) But regardless, everything and everyone belongs to their respective studio's, corporations, and companies. (God damnit!) And thus, I own nothing but my rabid plot bunnies and hopeless dreams, thank you very much!**_

**Authors Note #1:** While I am in the middle of writing four or five different stories at the moment this one was simply demanding to be told, resorting to even haunting my dreams in order to do so. Sometimes having an overactive imagination bites!

**Authors Note #2:** Unlike in a Zoo, please feel free to feed the author! Your reviews not only give me a warm fuzzy feeling inside, but they also help me improve myself. So yes, please read and review.

**Illogically in Love**

Chapter Four - "_**But don't tell me where the road ends, cause I just don't wanna know, No I don't wanna know..**_"

He felt something powerful clench in his gut as he watched them, twisting at his insides until the very air he breathed in burned as it touched his lungs. He watched as the man buried his face into the thickness of her hair, the one hand not tightly wrapped around her waist dug into the brownish blond strands, cupping her head as his lips moved intimately close to her ear, whispering words that were lost in the noise of the crowd.

He hadn't realized he had moved until he found himself standing directly in front of them, not two meters shy of from where they stood, leaving Mister Scott and the Andorian to conclude the requisition procedures without him. He was so close that he could smell the mans aftershave, smell his scent beginning to leech onto hers, overpowering her more subtle, feminine scent. _The mere thought alone was disturbing.._

It was only moments later that he broke the silence between them, unable to bear it any longer as their embrace continued. Schooling himself, he raised an eyebrow, his mouth a hard slash across his features. "_**Miss Chapel**_?" He inquired, his voice hard as he stressed each syllable that left his lips.

But if she noticed his changed demeanour she gave him no sign, twisting about in the mans embrace as if only just realizing he was still there. '_She had forgotten about him_.' He realised, Christine Chapel had entirely _forgotten_ about him the moment this stranger had walked in. _It was a situation that he had never before experienced, and one he certainly did not relish._

She flashed an unrestrained grin at him before turning back to the fiery-haired man, a pleased pink flush coloring her high cheek bones as the man pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead, laughing as he playfully batted her away when she attempted to do the same, joking about the lip-stick prints.

When the man finally pulled back, he twirled her around in a lazy circle as he gradually let her slip down, remaining pelvis to pelvis with her for such a long moment that he had to wonder if the man had done it purposely.

When they finally separated, the stranger kept his arm slung familiarly across her shoulders, sending him a friendly smile that did not once diminish when his enthusiasm was not returned as the woman rushed to introduce them.

"Oh I am sorry! Mister Spock, this is Jethro Temperance Commings. Jethro, Mister Spock, the Enterprise's first officer." She relayed happily, looking from both of them as if watching a tennis match.

The stranger broke the silence between them first, warmly extending his hand to shake as he spoke. "A pleasure Mister Spock. Please just call me Jethro. CeeCee has told me so much about you. She thinks very highly of you." He offered, his smile not wavering an iota when Spock paused a few long seconds before briefly shaking the mans hand in return.

He wasn't entirely sure what the man expected from him, and he was far too caught up in repressing the rising sense of unease in his mind to launch into a professional conversation with this..._man_.

As he abruptly released the mans hand from his own, he suddenly realized the emotion he was experiencing… _jealously._ What a horrid, poisoning feeling, rising like bile in his gullet, clouding his mind and judgement with suggestive whispers and half-veiled images. _He was jealous of this man. Jealous of his connection, whatever it might be towards Christine. Jealous!_

"Indeed." He finally replied, watching Christine's face fall marginally as she somehow caught on to the change in his demeanour.

"And what is your business on a Federation starbase Mr. Commings?" He asked his tone even, but hard.

If he had been any less of a Vulcan he was positive that the man would have irritated him, showing no outward sign of hostility or falling humour at his coldness, his smile firmly in place as he tugged Christine in for another friendly squeeze, his grin going impossibly larger when she giggled and blushed, fending him off jokingly with a small, delicate hand.

"It's Jethro, please! Mr. Commings is my father, and I am definitely not _that_ formal." He mock begged, giving him a lingering, calculating look before slowly disentangling himself from Christine's embrace, a unreadable look flitting across his intelligent green eyes as one of his hands returned to his trouser pocket.

"And while I hate to say it, _I am_ here on business. Not in my wildest dreams would I have imagined that the Enterprise was docking here at the same time! Pure, dumb luck eh?" He commented, looking down at Christine with a fond smile.

"Vulcan's don't believe in luck." He returned sternly, mildly surprised when the man only quirked a lip in response.

"Don't I know it?" He returned with a shake of his head. "My best friend, other then CeeCee here of course, is a Vulcan and she tells me the exact same thing. Maybe you're related?" He replied jokingly, canting his hips to the side in a careless gesture as he bent to pick up Christine's forgotten purse.

The head nurse took that as an opportunity to cut in, now watching him carefully out of the corner of her eye, as if concerned he was in danger of spontaneously combusting. "Jethro owns a construction company; he designs and builds Starbase's." She relayed pride evident in her words.

"Oh come now CeeCee, you make it sound like it is more exciting and complicated then what you two do with Starfleet." He protested, appearing genuinely embarrassed by the fuss the young nurse was making over him.

"He is being too modest." She cut in, giving him a proud smile. "When he bought the business he negotiated a contract with Starfleet. Now nearly all the starbases and space stations within sixteen sectors of here have either been built or is maintained by Jethro's company." She explained.

Apparently having given up on stemming Christine's praises, he nodded to Spock as he took over the natural flow of the conversation. "That much is true, I am actually here to meet with the Station supervisor and run a list of new protocols by him. Most importantly a new security program I designed to essentially shield this particular starbase, which as you know, in recent months has been continually at risk from rogue pirating fleets. Starfleet is stretched rather thin out here I am afraid, and the old system is just not cutting it anymore." He remarked, sweeping his arm out to gesture at the whole room as he drove his point home.

"But enough about me!" The man suddenly exclaimed, his left hand gesturing exuberantly through the air as he punctuated his words with the movement. "I want to hear about the Enterprise. How was the mission into the Jelbanese Nebula? And the treaty negotiations between the Rigellians and the Selbruim consortium? I know I have been hearing the odd rumour myself through the business channels and I heard that things were getting pretty dicey down there until you guys showed up."

"I believe that that is not appropriate conversation for this time. Such matters are for Starfleet officers only. Most of our current mission information is not available to the public Mr. Commings." He returned stonily, his tone perhaps slightly more harsh then his norm as he edged a step closer to Christine, attempting to ignore the look on her face as he finished, her mouth falling open to form a delicate 'o' of surprise as an annoyed flush returned to her cheeks.

However, once again the mans unfailable enthusiasm shone through, saving the trio from a awkward conversational lull by simply grinning back, smiling as if he was enjoying some private joke as he waved off Christine's stuttered attempt at apologies, the head nurse looking more stunned with anger then at a loss for words.

"Oh of course, of course! I should have known this mission would be considered classified. After all the Selbruim consortium issue is certainly no laughing matter." He nodded understandingly. He was about to say more when his civilian communicator shrilled for his attention, loud despite being muffled by the layers of his sports coat.

"My apologies, that'll be the Station supervisor." He remarked balefully, slipping a hand into his pocket and silencing the noise.

"However, I am sure he will understand the reason I am late." He replied roguishly. "After all, a chance meeting with a lovely lady such as yourself doesn't happen every millennium!" He joked, grinning at Christine who snickered in return, tossing her hair back as she swatted him playfully.

"Speaking of which, can I have the honour of taking my favourite gal in the entire universe out for dinner and dancing tonight?" He asked mock-grandly, making an exaggerated bow towards Christine, his hand extended upwards as he took on a stance worthy of any princely function, sticking his nose high in the air even as both he and the woman at his side began snorting with barely contained laughter.

He wasn't sure what to make of this. _Of them._ Humans were confusing at the best of times, but _this_ man served to confound him with nearly every sentence and action he made. The man seemed to be blind to even his most blatant attempts to end this meeting and return Christine to his sole company. Not to mention his easy, confident, and familiar way with Christine served to make the hairs on the back of his neck prickle with every passing moment.

"Oh! I would be honoured my..._liege._" Christine finally replied, the sentence punctuated by laughter as she sought to control herself, smoothing down her hair, and pressing a reassuring hand down along her clothing as she composed herself once again. Not looking the least bit contrite about her emotional outburst as she set eyes on him again, her sharp blue eyes worrisomely empty of the warmth that she usual reserved for him. A challenge clearly made in her fiery blue eyes as she readily accepted the mans invitation.

And then, as if the evening hadn't already been fraught with strange twists and surprises, the man turned towards him, his face warm as he rose his hand in a perfect Vulcan salute "Live long and prosper, Mister Spock, I hope we have a chance to meet again before your shore leave is up." He offered, apparently sincere, before turning to Christine and pulling her in for a quick one armed hug.

"Pick you up in say two hours then Chris? The 'Blue Nova' has an Andorian jazz group performing tonight." He replied with a grin, winking at her exaggeratedly as he slipped off her arm, waiting for her quick agreement before waving to them both as he slipped back into the ebbing crowd of people all around them.

This predictably left them both to a rather uncomfortable silence, the mood rapidly darkening as the seconds ticked by in silence. He was full of questions, _who was this man? How did he know her? Why? In what way? What were his intentions? What were HER intentions? _But as it turned out, he didn't have the chance to ask even one, as the Enterprises head nurse faced off in front of him like a cage fighter.

"I have no idea what has gotten into you Spock. But whatever it is would it have _killed_ you to be civil?!" She asked angrily, nearly dropping her hand bag as she whipped it over her shoulder, whirling on her heel, as she stalked out in the opposite direction. Leaving in a cloud of frustration, anger, and disappointment so thick that despite his mental shields he could sense it in the air like a scent.

He watched her go with a stirring sense of unease and uncertainty, his keen eyes following her as she made her way through the crowd and around the corner as her anger fuelled her fast steps. He had hardly felt so at odds with himself. One part of his nature screamed that this man was a threat, and yet, for all intents and purposes he was one of the most charming, thoughtful, intellectual, and friendly human beings he had ever met. The man was universal, someone who the Doctor would have likely coined as a true "Renaissance man". Essentially, if he were any less a Vulcan he would have had a hard time trying to hate him.

After a long moment of contemplation he finally broke out of his thoughts and returned to the console area, finding Mister Scott just finishing recounting all the materials for transport. The Scottish man hailed him as he returned, filling him in on the Andorian's additions to the manifesto before switching their conversation onto a much more personal tract.

"I couldn't help but notice our Nurse Chapel and that strapping young lad of hers." The man commented conversationally as they headed back towards the nearest transporter room.

"They must have known each other for quite some time, and not have seen each other for nearly as long if the way they greeted each other was any indication." He continued with a grin, the engineer's observations doing little to settle his agitated frame of mind.

"I am unsure of their affiliation." He finally responded, meeting the mans sharp brown eyes as they bunched together to let a anti-gravity sled piled high with plasma cells through the bustling corridor.

"I simply wished to ensure she was alright." He decided, unable to fully explain the reason why he had interrupted their emotional moment, seeing this as the closest to the truth that he was able to share.

"The man was unfamiliar, and this Starbase is not unknown for its share of criminal...incidents." He explained, remembering back to having read such reports himself a mere week before they had been scheduled to dock.

However it appeared that the intelligent Scotsman was not entirely taken with his explanation, his eyes suddenly twinkling as he studied Spock's expression. Grinning he shook his head, as if something monumentous had suddenly occurred to him.

"Ach she's a strong headed lass our Christine, aye. But she'll come around." The mature engineer commented, tilting his head sagely as he uncoiled the length of circuitry wiring from around his shoulder, clearly hiding an amused grin as he turned the corner and stepped into the transporter room ahead of him, leaving the bemused Vulcan to wonder just when he had become so utterly transparent...

_**A/N: Did you like this chapter? Review and let me know! And also, as always, thanks for the reviews! I try to respond to each one, but if I missed you somewhere along the way, my bad! And also a thank you to those of you who are reviewing anonymously, I would thank you personally if I could!**_

_**A/N: My chapter title is lyrics from Thriving Ivory's song: "Angels on the Moon". The band is awesome; check them out on youtube or what not!**_ _**I am sure you are picking up on a trend right now, and yes, I am currently obsessed with Thriving Ivory..and I am definitely NOT sorry! Ha!**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**Disclaimer: I am neither lucky, powerful, rich, or influential enough to own Star Trek. If I did I certainly wouldn't be sitting around fantasying about it. (Ha! Who am I kidding, I still would!) But regardless, everything and everyone belongs to their respective studio's, corporations, and companies. (God damnit!) And thus, I own nothing but my rabid plot bunnies and hopeless dreams, thank you very much!**_

**Authors Note #1:** While I am in the middle of writing four or five different stories at the moment this one was simply demanding to be told, resorting to even haunting my dreams in order to do so. Sometimes having an overactive imagination bites!

**Authors Note #2:** Unlike in a Zoo, please feel free to feed the author! Your reviews not only give me a warm fuzzy feeling inside, but they also help me improve myself. So yes, please read and review.

**Illogically in Love**

Chapter Five - "_**So What about us? ...What about love?...What about saying..  
That we'll never give up? "**_

Once he rematerialized back aboard the Enterprise, and bid farewell to Mister Scott, he found himself at a loss of what to do. His thoughts ran rampant and disorganized as multiple theories and suggestions were all formulated, considered, and rejected nearly as fast as his brain could process them.

The entire passage of events in the past hour had left him deeply unsettled. As did both Christine's, and his own reprehensible behaviour. _He couldn't even explain it to himself, let alone examine it logically._

Knowing he was in no fit state to command, he hailed the bridge, leaving an eager Ensign Chevok, and a collected Lieutenant Sulu at the helm to oversee the rest of the docking procedures, finding that the Captain had already embarked on the start of his own shore leave.

As he headed to the Science labs, intent on collecting a number of star charts he had uploaded for further study, he let his mind ponder on his current predicament. Not even seeming to notice when he rounded a corner, and interrupted an over enthusiastic couple who had apparently decided to start their shore leave early. They were half shrouded by the turbo lift door, the woman's long red hair clashing spectacularly from the mans own black locks as he startled them from an admittedly impressive lip lock, carrying on past them with not even a flick of his brow as they pulled away in surprise, both blushing fit to match the young ensigns red hair as the obscene smacking noise of their lips pulling apart echoed throughout the corridor.

He needed to talk to her, to settle their differences and finally determine what was between them. _To find out if she still felt the same way about him as she once did, and as he now did for her.._ And yet, the thought of what would happen if she spurned his advances seemed almost too much to bear even meditating about.

_He had never felt such a strong conviction about something like this in his entire long life, it was as if he knew this truth down to his very core, to the very essence of his being. He not only desired her, he **needed** her._

Yet, at the same time, he couldn't function in this constant state of doubt and anxiety. Already he had begun cataloguing the growing cascade of human emotions as they trickled past his mental shields: jealously, uncertainty, self-doubt, denial, anger....The list appeared to be embarrassingly endless.

But regardless of the consequences, he knew one thing for certain, this had to be resolved. And so, turning on his heel, mindless of a group of Botanists that skipped, startled out of his way, darting wide eyed, relieved glances at each other at their near miss as he went back the way he came, through the uncommonly deserted corridors towards the head nurses quarters.

He was half way to her room when he realized she was not there, having retreated deeper into the station no doubt to keep her shopping date with Lieutenant Uhura. Feeling uncommonly restless, he headed back towards his own quarters, he needed time to mediate and come upon the correct solution to this dilemma.

And yet somehow, even as he slipped into his blood-red meditation robes, letting the loose fabric flow down his lithe frame, embracing his skin with every movement, as he stoked the smouldering fire pot, the air thick with the scents of home, he remained grossly unsure if such a solution could ever be found, even in the depths of Vulcan mediation.

Numerous hours later, he emerged from his trance in near frustration, no closer to a conclusion, to answers, nor anything even resembling a workable plan. Throughout the exercise his mind had been unruly and disjointed, but in spite of this he had tamed his instincts and delved deep within the layers of conscious and unconscious thought, searching out the ancient wisdom of his ancestors.

But for one of the few times in his life, logic and meditation failed him, leaving him with more questions and uncertainty then he had had before. It seemed, that despite his reluctance, after arising from this deep mode of contemplation, it appeared that the Vulcan way was not the best fitted for finding a solution to the task he had before him.

The Vulcan in him leaned towards logic being the answer, a formula that until now had never served to fail him. But on the opposite side of the argument, having lived among humans for many years, and having even called a select few of them his best companions, experience told him that a logical solution was not always the most prudent, nor the most effective when it involved the human species. _Dealing with humans rarely was logical to begin with..._

Perhaps then, **this** is where the solution lay. Christine was a human woman, holding the same humanity within her that his mother had past on to him. Perhaps then the solution rested not in his Vulcan nature, but in his humanity?

In a way, this solution was nearly logical in its simplicity. Illogical logic, before Christine he would have doubted that there was even such a thing. But perhaps, since the very idea of love, was in itself, illogical for a Vulcan to both experience and express, perhaps it _did_ exist. _Perhaps it was the human in him.._

However, the question that now remained was that if the human part of him strong enough to extend its virtues and wisdom despite the decades of repression and ignorance he had wielded upon it? Was humanity merely a facet of his biological make-up, or did it have the strength to exist within his mind as well?

_**A/N: Did you like this chapter? Review and let me know! As always, thanks for the reviews! I would also like to do a shout out to those of you who are reviewing anonymously; I would thank you personally if I could!**_

_**A/N: My chapter title is lyrics from John Barrowman's rendition of: "What about us?". He is probably the best thing since...well EVER! Sexy, talented, awesome with his fans, great sense of humour, outstanding personality, cute butt, stage singer, killer accent, lead character in Torchwood. Need I say more? I seriously recommend checking him out on youtube or what not!**_ _**(Ps: Any deaths resulting from fan girl and guy squee/thunk at first sight/and damage done to ones keyboard due to excessive drooling is ENTIRELY not my fault).**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**Disclaimer: I am neither lucky, powerful, rich, or influential enough to own Star Trek. If I did I certainly wouldn't be sitting around fantasying about it. (Ha! Who am I kidding, I still would!) But regardless, everything and everyone belongs to their respective studio's, corporations, and companies. (God damnit!) And thus, I own nothing but my rabid plot bunnies and hopeless dreams, thank you very much!**_

**Authors Note #1:** While I am in the middle of writing four or five different stories at the moment this one was simply demanding to be told, resorting to even haunting my dreams in order to do so. Sometimes having an overactive imagination bites!

**Authors Note #2:** Unlike in a Zoo, please feel free to feed the author! Your reviews not only give me a warm fuzzy feeling inside, but they also help me improve myself. So yes, please read and review.

**Authors Note #3:** As you all will no doubt notice, I took a different route in how I am telling the story in this chapter. I wanted at least one chapter that focused on Christine and Jethro before the 'climax' moment that will hopefully arrive soon (Rabid plot bunnies depending). I felt that in order to tell this story in the best way, we needed to hear from these two characters to get a full scope of the picture, personality, and whole situation of the story in order for the eventual conclusion I have in mind to make sense. Hopefully you guys like it! Let me know!

**Illogically in Love**

Chapter Six - "_**What about love? It's the one thing that we never discussed...Don't wanna blame ya', but were in danger..."**_

_**...In the meantime, on Starbase 68..**_

While Spock had been immersed within himself, caught up in his own mind as he mediated, the fire pot gradually dimming, falling from a dull roar to the dieing crackle of disintegrating embers, time had continued on outside his quarters in its strange, relentless way. Counting down the seconds, the minutes, and the hours with life chasing after in a flurry of activity and motion, as unrelenting and unstoppable as time itself.

They sat off to the side, occupying a small, but romantic corner table in the 'Blue Nova', a trio of pillar candles surrounding the intimate scene, dusting them in flicking candle light as the beginning strains of an old Earth melody sounded mournfully from the Andorian version of an Earth saxophone, the cheerful plinking tune of a piano melding together with the rest of the band as they slowly moved to accompany it.

Slipping tall delicate glasses of Vulcan port, and laughing happily they picked languidly at a tray of appetizers, deeply immersed in their own private conversation, remaining entirely unaware of the curious and indeed jealous glances a number of the clubs patrons were shooting at them.

Leaning in for a toast, the red haired man grinned as he studied the head nurse. "So _that _was the famous? Or should I say, infamous? Spock eh?" He finally asked, having purposely skipped around the question until his companion's mood had noticeably improved. "I thought you had given up on him ages ago." He finished, obviously fishing for answers as he took another sip of port.

The light brown haired woman's lips visibly thinned as she tossed her long curls back in irritation, her discomfort clearly visible as she took another fortifying sip before answering.

"I did. I think of him simply as a friend and colleague now Jethro. I wasted quite enough of my life chasing after the impossible." She remarked, feigning a tone of emotionless candour that her companion saw right through, flicking an eyebrow at her in a gesture eerily similar to the very subject of their conversation as he watched her finish.

"Oh come on Chris, don't give me that. I know you better then that." He chided gently, as he signalled to the nearest waiter and ordered two shots of their finest Klingon Blood wine.

She had only just opened her mouth to refuse when he quickly spoke over her, overriding whatever she had been about to say when he took one of her small hands in his own. "Chris, remember, this is me, not someone else, not another of your friends, or coworkers. You can be honest with me, in fact I insist upon it. Lying to me nearly a felony remember?" He remarked with a slight smile as a grin tugged on her own lips as he finished, caught in an old memory of a simpler time when that much had been true.

She sighed deeply, shaking her head slightly as she met his eyes again. "I did give up on him in a way." She began hesitantly, looking as if simply saying the words was as difficult as dragging up two hundred pound weights without a winch.

"I started living my life again, enjoying life again! I even dated a little bit here and there." She continued, taking an impressive sip from her glass, twirling it in her fingers slightly to make the fine crystal glint in the low candle light.

"I suppose I just woke up one morning and realized I was wasting my life. That I **had** wasted years of it." She remarked, her voice gaining strength and prominence as she recalled past frustrations and hurt.

"I had become this entirely different person that I didn't even recognize anymore. I looked at myself and didn't see me! I saw someone else...someone I had _actually_ changed myself into... for _**him**_. But he didn't even notice. He didn't even care..." She trailed off, before snorting in humourless mirth and downing the rest of her drink in one go.

"I had changed myself into someone I thought he wanted someone that he would like, and be able to find common ground with. Someone who he _could_ love. But it wasn't me. Hell! Jethro, I even changed my hair color when I found out he favoured blonds! And when that didn't work, I tried different shades..." She explained, sighing deeply as she looked down at herself as if to demonstrate the change.

"You know, he said to me once that he couldn't give me what _'I sought'_." She quoted, gesturing with a cocktail shrimp in the air as she punctuated her point. "And still...still I thought there was hope, I didn't stop loving him, chasing after him." She pointed out, her expressing going grim once again as she rolled her blue eyes in disgruntled humor.

There was a lull in the conversation as she trailed off when the waiter arrived with their shots, refilling their glasses of port as the nurse eyed the thick blood red liquid with morbid interest, carefully tugging one of them closer to her side of the table when he had gone.

He watched her for a long moment, embracing the silence in a way that would have made even the most stalwart Vulcan envious. Finally, he abandoned his drink to retake her hand, cupping it in his own large palm.

"You still love him don't you?" He asked simply, his eyes kind and open, with only his lips betraying the slightest beginnings of a smile.

She sucked in an audible breath, appearing to sag visibly in her seat, but she made no motion to deny it. "Yes, god help me, but I do." She finally replied, her eyes glimmering with unshed tears of frustration and hurt.

He shushed her, smiling proudly as she furiously blinked back her tears, refusing to let a single drop fall. "I am proud of you Chris." He began, smiling back at her surprised expression.

"What?! For continuing to make an epic fool of myself?" She snorted evasively, taking fresh sip of her Vulcan port for a distraction.

"No, of course not. You my dear are no ones fool." He replied firmly. "No, I am proud of you because despite all of this, you have finally refused to compromise who you are, simply for the attentions of a man. You still love him Chris, but yet you no longer drown in the sorrows of what could be...or worse, of unrequited love!" He remarked boldly, flinging his hand grandly through the air as the candles around them flickered dangerously in the sudden wind.

She watched him for a moment, her blue eyes wide before a genuine grin broke out over her soft features. "God I have missed you JJ." She replied, laughing softly when he made a face at the old childhood nickname. "You always know how to turn me on my ass and knock some sense into me!" She remarked fondly, grabbing his hand and squeezing it tightly, mindless of her language as an Admiral and his wife sitting table beside them spluttered indignantly into their bowls of Denobulan stew.

"Damn Vulcans anyway..." She stated with a quirk of her lips, before inclining her glass of port towards him in toast and taking a sip.

However, she remained entirely unprepared for her companions next comment, nearly choking on her drink as his words rang out all too truly in their secluded corner, turning her mind into a jumbling carnival of confusion, shock, disbelief, stunned denial, and the barely discernable hint of hope..

"CeeCee, please, Vulcan or not, that man is so far over the moon for you he can't even SEE the stars. Trust me on that. He might have not had these feeling for you before, but he sure does now... and you can take **that** to the bank!" The red haired man commented, his voice broaching no argument as he picked up both their shot glasses, forcing hers into her nerveless hands as she gaped wordlessly at him from across the dimly lit table, the echoing sounds of applause resounding on her deaf ears as the band finished their song with the stunning wail of a remarkable saxophone solo...

_**A/N: My chapter title is AGAIN lyrics from John Barrowman's rendition of: "What about us?". Enjoy!**_


	7. Chapter 7

_**Disclaimer: I am neither lucky, powerful, rich, or influential enough to own Star Trek. If I did I certainly wouldn't be sitting around fantasying about it. (Ha! Who am I kidding, I still would!) But regardless, everything and everyone belongs to their respective studio's, corporations, and companies. (God damnit!) And thus, I own nothing but my rabid plot bunnies and hopeless dreams, thank you very much!**_

**Authors Note #1:** While I am in the middle of writing four or five different stories at the moment this one was simply demanding to be told, resorting to even haunting my dreams in order to do so. Sometimes having an overactive imagination bites!

**Authors Note #2:** Unlike in a Zoo, please feel free to feed the author! Your reviews not only give me a warm fuzzy feeling inside, but they also help me improve myself. So yes, please read and review.

**Illogically in Love**

Chapter Seven - "_**I know you were right believing for so long... I'm all out of love, what am I without you? ...I can't be too late to say that I was so wrong.."**_

It wasn't long after that he stepped into the intimately lit club, the soft, uniquely foreign scents of dozens of different species assaulting his senses as he paused in the doorway leading to the 'Blue Nova', adjusting his admittedly battered mental shields as he took in the lay of the room.

The establishment was decorated tastefully, if not a bit dramatically to his more conservative tastes. It seemed tailored mostly towards couples then what might have expected a renowned officers club to cater towards. The atmosphere was made complete with tall pillar candles and the secluded, yet intimate table settings. The dance floor was tiled in crisp white marble, sloping upwards towards the stage were the Andorian band still played, having now switched tunes to play a collection of earth melodies from the late 1960's.

However, despite the pointed romantic nature of this establishment, he noted, as his eyes fell upon where the Captain and the Doctor were seated at the far side of the room that the two handsome bachelors were not lacking for company. In fact, it was due to the two women who had engrossed both men in deep conversation that they had failed to notice his arrival. He noted as well that both Jim and Leonard had opted to shed their respective uniforms, and a quick look around the room told him that he would likely stand out, being one of the only ones who had not thought to change out of his Starfleet uniform and into something more casual.

Moving closer towards the bar, he shadowed the wall as he watched the people moving and talking all around him, absorbing the various conversations with a flick of his brow. However, despite his discretion his arrival did not remain unnoticed for long, and soon he gained the attentions of a cheerful Denobulan waitress who took his order and promptly returned with his requested glass of Vulcan Brandy.

Taking a measured sip of the potent brew he noted with some satisfaction that the liquor had been brewed in the Vulcan highlands, an area on his home world that produced some of the finest brandy on the planet. It appeared that this club was indeed as prestigious as it was hailed; as such Vulcan brandy was remarkably expensive, even on Vulcan itself.

Taking another appreciative sip he returned to watching the clubs patrons, his eyes ceaselessly roving through the people, searching for one particular woman among all the rest, one that still remained heavily in his thoughts. It wasn't until he took a closer look at the dance floor that he finally found her..

She appears out of the crowd with a flourish, the people parting smoothly around her as she and her dance partner swooped neatly through, making the people around them murmur and clap as she was talentedly dipped and flipped lightly back up into the air as she weighed nothing at all.

She was dressed in such a way that he hardly recognized her, and clasped in the embrace of the same red haired man from before. They were pressed together, cheek to cheek as they moved gracefully with the music, flowing effortlessly along as the attractive man led Christine through the dance as something he had said, his words lost among the jazz-style notes of the band made her eyes light up in laughter as he twirled her around in his arms.

He stamped down another surge of emotion, of _jealousy..._ Forcing himself to take another sip of his drink, and instead of acting rashly, he let him observe her, watching as she moved across the floor. She had changed from her slacks and top into a small, strapless cocktail dress that flowed down to her knees. The fabric appeared to shimmer as she moved, the rich navy blue color melding in fashionably with the tasteful black floral design that adorned the snug bodice, a delicate chandelier necklace setting off the noticeable hint of cleavage that the bust of the dress revealed. The dress lending itself to be both elegant, classy, and trendy at the same time, setting off her simple, black velvet heels as the hem of the dress swirled enticingly across her long bare legs.

It appeared that she had also done something to her hair, letting the thick curls of her brownish blond hair hang loose, the long waves ghosting past her shoulders to curl in the small of her back, with only a small portion pulled back at the very center of her head, and broached together in a small jewelled clip that matched the design of her necklace. She was stunning, radiant even, it was something even he couldn't help but realize in spite of everything. It was a humbling thought, that for him she was the most pleasing sight he had ever beheld in the face of all the wonders in the universe he had thus far experienced.

He moved away from the wall, finally melding in with the bulk of the crowd that had slowly streamed towards the dance floor, most of them watching as a few, clearly talented couples flowed around the floor, leaving the audience in awe as they whipped past. Christine and her partner were one of these elite couples, moving around the floor with a grace and poise he rarely had the pleasure to witness, their talent obvious as they smoothly ran from one dance style to another as the band switched their song to an Andorian tune he was not familiar with.

He slowly made his way through the crowd and to the forefront of the dance floor, hoping to capture her attention as he thought of an appropriate way in which to approach her. But even when she and the red haired man had waltzed right beside him, a mere meter from where he stood, she remained absolutely oblivious to his presence as they sashayed away, leaving him in the proverbial dust, his nose twitching slightly as he couldn't help but breathe in a mix of her enticing perfume, and his slightly roguish aftershave.

She never even noticed him. _She didn't even look!_ There had been a time, not so long ago that she had seemed genuinely attuned to his presence, noticing him the moment he walked into a room or entered a corridor, her head cocked towards him as a radiant smile would bloom on her face.

But not now, now she only had eyes for this other man, the red haired stranger that had simply walked up and stolen her away from him with hardly an effort. He had ensnared her attentions so fully, and so completely that for one of the first times since he had known the head nurse, she had actually had the nerve to get angry at him, and tell him off about it. Something she all too rightfully had cause for in this case of course, but angered at him all the same. And while he was at loath to admit it, he was beginning to believe that this was what Leonard would have coined: "his just reward."

As he continued to watch the dancing couple, the people around him thinned out slightly, finding their own partners and joining the others on the dance floor. With even the Captain and Doctor McCoy being pulled out onto the floor by their respective admirers, holding out for a few dances before retiring once again to their more intimate table and ordering another round of drinks.

However, it did not appear that Christine, nor her partner were willing to do the same, continuing on dancing regardless of the tune. It appeared that he had no other choice but to do something he deemed as suitably drastic if he desired to garner her attentions and speak with her immediately...

And so, doing something he had only ever watched Jim and Leonard do at official Starfleet functions where dancing came hand in hand with the negotiations and political affairs, he waited until they neared him, their dance now morphing into a slow waltz, before stepping up to the dancing couple.

He was entirely unaware of the Captain and the Doctor watching him closely from their corner table, the Doctor grinning into his Kentucky bourbon with a smug, knowing look as Jim watched wide eyed, looking more shell-shocked then if he had just been told that the Earth itself had shifted on its axis and was now revolving backwards.

He waited until they had come to a lull in the tempo of the song before making his move, cutting cleanly through the other couples, and coming up behind Christine with hardly a noise despite the hard marble beneath his pointed boots.

"May I cut in?" He inquired simply, absorbing Christine's shocked look, and the mans easy grin with one flick of his gaze, unsure if he actually seen the man wink knowingly at Christine before completing a final twirl and nodding eagerly, his grin threatening to split his handsome face clean in half if it dared to grow any larger.

"Of course Mister Spock! My pleasure." He replied, looking strangely pleased as he bowed slightly to Christine before handing her off, ignoring her surprised and indignant squeak as he faded back into the crowd, his departure causing barely a ripple as he was absorbed back into the audience.

Her hand was warm in his, and yet still cool in contrast to his bodies warmer temperature. Her touch was like a cooling breeze in the heart of the dry season in the Vulcan Forge, an omen that was that was rare and something that was always meant to be savoured. The difference between just their hands was telling, hers being small, pale and delicate looking in the face of his large palm and long fingers, with his tanned, green-tinted palm alone nearly overwhelming the span of her own.

He could see her hesitation, the anger and hurt that still lay behind her bright blue eyes, but instead of pulling away, she let him adjust his hold on her hand and wrap the ghost of an embrace around her waist as they re-entered the steps of the dance which had now turned to a faster and more complicated tune.

The sensation of her so close to him was most distracting, sensing the presence of her mind despite his attempts to repel it just as strongly as he felt the whisper of her breath against his neck, the heady scent of her perfume, the underlying natural scent of her beneath...and the warmth of her skin through the thin layer of her dress, all of which served to tantalize his senses even further.

After they had done a circuit of the dance floor in relative silence, he realized that it was up to him to broach it, the woman in his arms staying silent despite the searching, lingering looks she was shooting at him from beneath veiled lashes.

"I wish to apologise for my behaviour earlier this evening Christine." He began finally, adjusting their direction slightly as he manoeuvred them to a spot on the floor where there was more privacy, not missing a beat of the a dance as he twirled her in time with the tempo, eliciting a strangled peep of surprise from the woman as his hand encircled her waist more firmly, lending to her balance through the twirl. _A hold that he deliberately did not relinquish once the move was over, a part of him relishing in the closeness._

She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out, she seemed entirely too preoccupied with looking up at him, studying his face with such an intensity that if he had been anyone else such a stare would have most likely served to be intimidating.

Finally he could take the silence no longer, and lent his voice in lue of where hers had disappeared. "Would to be suitable to discuss this in private?" He asked softly, finding himself suddenly distracted by the scent rising from their entwined bodies, the pressing of their bodies together, navel to navel. No wonder humans..._enjoyed_ this rather.. stimulating activity to so much excess.

There was a rather pregnant pause before she answered, her reply hesitant, but the words slightly breathless. "Alright..." She replied, allowing him to lead her off the dance floor and into the moving crowd, neither noticing the knowing stares that followed them from their fellow dancers as they watched them until their backs rounded the corner, amused smiles tilting their lips as their own dances continued. While all the while, from the intimate corner table, the red haired man watched them go, a grin tugging on his lips as his bright eyes followed them to the door, sipping a congratulatory Andorian whiskey as he keyed up his mobile contactor, his own eyes lighting up with love and adoration as the screen cleared and the person on the other end finally became visible.

_**A/N: Did you like this chapter? Review and let me know! As always, thanks for the reviews! I would also like to do a shout out to those of you who are reviewing anonymously, I would thank you personally if I could!**_

_**A/N: I hope you all enjoyed last chapters song/title, sung by John Barrowman because this current chapter includes a title with lyrics from another song another sung by John! My chapter title is lyrics from John Barrowman's version of: "All out of Love". Like last time, I repeat: **__**Any deaths resulting from fan girl and guy squee/thunk at first sight/and damage done to ones keyboard due to excessive drooling is ENTIRELY not my fault). And like the others, he is on youtube with this song as well if you care to take a peek!**_


	8. Chapter 8

_**Disclaimer: I am neither lucky, powerful, rich, or influential enough to own Star Trek. If I did I certainly wouldn't be sitting around fantasying about it. (Ha! Who am I kidding, I still would!) But regardless, everything and everyone belongs to their respective studio's, corporations, and companies. (God damnit!) And thus, I own nothing but my rabid plot bunnies and hopeless dreams, thank you very much!**_

**Authors Note #1:** While I am in the middle of writing four or five different stories at the moment this one was simply demanding to be told, resorting to even haunting my dreams in order to do so. Sometimes having an overactive imagination bites!

**Authors Note #2:** Unlike in a Zoo, please feel free to feed the author! Your reviews not only give me a warm fuzzy feeling inside, but they also help me improve myself. So yes, please read and review.

**Illogically in Love**

Chapter Eight - "_**You know I feel it in my bones and I wear it on my skin...But there is no use in right or wrong...When a heart must go where it belongs...**_"

The walk down the corridors continued in near silence, something that while familiar to him, suddenly felt distinctly uncomfortable when shared with the uncommonly silent woman at his side. He had expected her to break into questions, or even start an argument when they had rematerialized back aboard the Enterprise, but instead she had stayed mute, her heels clicking crisply on the metallic floors as she led the way to her rooms, seemingly out to make a point that their conversation would be held on her own grounds, in a space where she, and notably _not_ he, was familiar with.

And as this thought occurred to him, he experienced a thrill of discomfort as he pondered whether their conversation would turn from explanations and apologies to anger and confrontation instead. '_Women of any species were strangely hard to read' _He realized sagely, pondering on this matter not for the first time that day.

He kept her steady pace easily, forgoing his usual sedate walk to match her stride but making a deliberate point not to outpace her, letting her control their gait as he remained half a step behind, unwilling to make any further moves until he had ascertained her state of mind.

However, despite this he kept close to her side, his presence far too close and intimate to be thought as entirely appropriate, but regardless he remained where he was, letting her absorb this new development as he continued his closeness, hoping that it would lend towards the sincerity of his feelings... as he knew she would find them difficult to believe after all these years of disappointment and unrequited love.

They arrived quickly at her doors, with the woman at his side smacking the entrance button with near frightful force, barely waiting for the doors to completely open before striding determinedly inside, deliberately not looking at him until she had taken a turn of the room and put half the measure of the space between them.

If he had been any less a Vulcan he was sure these actions would have elicited an uncomfortable clearing of his throat, or lent a restless nature to his limbs, however he was able to contain his discomfort and collect his thoughts, attempting to put her stony expression out of mind for the task ahead.

She made no move to speak, her hands raising to rest on her hips as she clearly awaited his promised explanations, frustration, anger, and confusion ripe across her features. _It seemed that there was nothing left to do but to explain himself._

"Miss Chapel..._Christine.._" He began, amending himself almost immediately, as he advanced forward a step as he spoke, attempting to broach the divide between them in more ways then one.

"As I mentioned earlier, I owe you an apology for my rather blunt and incordial behaviour earlier today towards your...acquaintance...Mr. Commings." He continued, watching her face closely for a hint of her feelings, but finding depressingly little to go on before he continued.

"However, it is my duty as your superior officer, and I hope, as your friends that I express my own concern over your behaviour. I do not think it is wise that you act so informally with such a man, one in which none of your friends and companions have neither heard of nor seen. And whose character can only be described as questionable, and his intentions towards you seen as all to clear. My concern is of course towards your countenance in this matter." He finished abruptly.

The moment the words slipped from his lips he experienced the strange emotion of regret, realizing that somehow, he had already managed to err in this matter. _Perhaps he should have taken another route in beginning to broach his own feelings towards her?_

In fact, he believed he had began the conversation so wrongly that he could almost picture the Doctors reaction, straight down from his facial expression to the choice words that would no doubt slip from his lips as he took him to task for his very Vulcan-like error, and indeed, possibly an error on the part of his masculinity as well. _At the moment it was hard to distinguish between the two._

Her face went from an alarming shade of near-pale, to a stunning red that coloured her high cheekbones, mirrors to her rage as she sucked in a breath of air in a high pitched hiss.

"How _**dare**_ you." She returned, her hands clenched into tight fists at her sides, her small hands nearly swallowed by the voluminous folds of her captivating dress.

Words failed him in face of her passionate emotions, and the strength of her anger and hurt. He could think of nothing to sooth neither her nor the situation he had placed himself in, his apologies suddenly ringing as inadequate in his mind as he observed her readying herself to address him.

However, she did not shrink back from him or demand he leave, instead she advanced, coming at him with anger blazing into blue fires in her eyes, one hand upraised as she gestured at him violently.

And even so, in spite of the situation before him, some small, and very human-like part of him noted that this, _this_ was the true Christine Chapel, a woman who backed down from no one, least of all him. And a woman too, that was her own, being strong, capable, breathtaking even in her natural state, and utterly exotically beautiful in the height of her anger.

"_**Jethro**_ lives on Earth! with his _**husband**_ Scott, of five years!" She blasted back at him, throwing down her small purse as she took another step towards him, seeming not even to notice when he took an unconscious half-step backwards, her cheeks flushed a heightened shade of crimson in her ire, the color matching her hot blooded, and justified temper.

"But **no**! I am sure I will jump him the moment he is looking the other way!" She continued hotly, sarcasm dripping from her lips as thick as molasses as she let it all out, ignoring his attempts to speak entirely and talking right over him.

He wasn't exactly sure when control over the conversation had gotten away from him, but away it had. Possibly even the very moment he had opened his mouth to speak? And now she gave him no quarter, still advancing upon him as from her lips fell the heavy truths he had so blatantly missed.

_How could he have been so blind? The affections Mr. Commings showed for Christine were not that of a lover, or a suitor, but of a long and fast friend.. One with no romantic designs on her, nor it seemed any other woman in the universe either. How could such an observation have missed him? How had he misunderstood something so obvious?_

"You just don't get it do you Spock? You **never** did. It had _always_ been you! Christ, even after all this time...after everything, it is _still_ you. God help me, but I am a fool." She continued on, her voice lowering slightly as she finished the sentence, her eyes shimmering slightly with the beginnings of a few traitorous tears. The sight alone nearly incapacitating him completely. But instead she shook her head vehemently, blinking back her emotion and facing him again, taking him to task for his foolery and harm done onto her, the reprove years overdue.

And now that she had started on him, the words simply began spilling out of her; accusations, demands, questions...They were all righteous and yet entirely ill timed to what he wished to resolve. And it was all directed at him, coming with such muster and resolve that he began to fear that she wasn't going to stop.

Thus he did what any Vulcan would do, analyze the situation and come to the most logical conclusion, indeed the only logical thing he had left to him. This time, unlike so many times in the past with this wondrous human woman, his logic saved him. Because after all, if the problem lay in making his feeling known, being given the appropriate time to voice them, and the woman in question being too caught up in her own conversation to hear it, her lips forming the words of her righteous speech in emotional abandon, well, the only logical conclusion was of course...to _silence_ them.

And therefore, that was the moment he leaned forward, one hand capturing her chin, and the other coming to up to briefly caress her cheek, taking no heed of her stunned, agape expression, that he kissed Christine Chapel.

It was an unprecedented moment in his life, aside from those times he had been unconscious and thus in that sense incapacitated, but from the moment their lips met all his methods of measuring time vanished, leaving him lost to the moments that past them by, leaving him to wonder if time itself had actually slowed and the fabric of the very universe torn asunder all around them as explosions of color burst behind his eyes.

He felt her consciousness slip into him with barely a ripple of harsh delivery, and he opened his mind to her, embracing her consciousness with his, cradling it within himself as he soothed her fears, her past hurts and confusion. She slid into his embrace as if the spot in his mind she now occupied had been perfectly made for her, as if she had always meant to be there. _His hearts mate.._

And in this, he could contain himself no longer, needing her to understand, needing her to know! And so he showed her in the ancient way of his people, exactly how true and deep his feelings for her ran. Telling her in a way he could not voice on the outside, how very much he loved her, desired her, and needed her.

She wrapped around him in a cord of brilliant blue, the winking sapphire color that marked her consciousness within his own. She melded in with him without any difficultly or strain, the bond between them so deep that their differing race and biology seemed meaningless and unimportant. And while timid and soft, despite all they had been through, she directed her own feeling towards him through the fledging bond..emersing his consciousness in a tidal wave of tranquil blue, warm with the all the passion and love for him that only a human could so rightly express.

And yet, it seemed as though the kiss had only just begun when she suddenly pulled back, breaking the kiss but making no move to disentangle herself from his embrace. Instead she caught his eyes, her expression soft, surprised, warm, and elated, with the growing spark of hope daring to flush across her features...

But despite this her eyes remained steady and strong, broaching him no reprieve and giving him the impression that despite their internal admissions, she needed more concrete proof of his feelings, something more then what had ready been 'said'. _Perhaps it was the human in her._

"Did you mean it? ....I mean really?" She asked, after an endless pause, recovering from the mental link as she spoke, her voice breathless as she looked up at him, her eyes searching his face with such intensity...as if she expected to find the answers there upon his skin.

He paused before answering, reordering his admittedly scattered thoughts as he gathered up both her hands in his own and brought them to his lips as he kissed each one before returning her gaze.

"More then anything in my life.. Christine, yes." He replied simply, his voice quiet and nearly a whisper.

He was about to say more when Christine silenced him just as effectively as he had done to her scant minutes ago. Throwing herself unrestrainedly into his arms with a wordless happy cry, and sealing her lips around his in a passionate, and indeed thorough kiss, sending them both reeling towards the wall as he returned it, his passion equal to her own as he braced them up against the wall and set about describing his feelings towards her in an entirely…._different_ manner.....

_**...Sometime the next morning...**_

He regained awareness the next morning amidst a slow haze of sensation. His limbs slid and caught on the soft, silk-like sheets, tangling around his limbs much like the the soft, human-warm flesh the lay wrapped intimately around him, her small, soft breaths ghosting intimately against the curve of his shoulder as she slept on.

He breathed in the scent with unashamed pleasure, letting his senses slowly catalogue the virtual melding pot of sensation around him. He luxuriated first in the mingling of their scents, in a room ripe with Christine's presence at every turn, he found now that his too had begun to permeate the spacious quarters.

Her brownish-blond hair curled every which way across the pillows, mussed up into small fly-away tufts around her face, the brownish strands even straying as far as to flow over his own skin, ghosting across his arm and collarbone.

And as he looked down at her something inexplicable tightened in his chest, realizing at that very same moment that sometime during the night one of her arms had some up to rest over the span of his chest, as if even in her sleep she had been at loath to leave him. And it appeared that unconsciously his mind had thought the same, with one of his arms hung loosely around the curve of her hip.

Musing on the general nature of his apparently somewhat _sensual _unconscious mind, he let his hand move softly across the plane of her hip and thigh, admiring the strong softness of her flesh under his hand. Unable to contain his admiration as it ran upwards, curving across her waist to stroke a breast, and the hollow of her throat before resting on her plush lips and cheek, her soft, even breaths tantalizing his sensitive fingers as she slept on, unaware of his admiration and blatant emotional display.

As his fingers came to play in her hair, softly running through her thick brownish locks, she stirred slightly beside him, her skin sleep-warm as she shifted around him. She made soft sleepy sounds that sizzled through his body like fire, alighting his skin as she snuggled in closer, resting her chin on the curve of his shoulder as she opened an eye, still mostly asleep as she looked at him.

"Spock..." She murmured softly, her voice mussed and deep with sleep as she nearly climbed atop him in her search to move closer to him. He pulled her up until she was half draped over him, a pleased hum, barely discernable, to even himself, escaping his lips as he relished in the contact.

Her mind-voice was faint, but their connection remained still uncommonly strong despite her half-awake state. He received a slow trickle of blurred images and colors, all made rich with her happiness and satisfaction.

"_I am here, sleep now T'hy'la.."_ He sent to her through the bond, only slightly surprised as before she drifted off, whether unconsciously or not, her mind sent to him a rather vivid and suggestive picture of their lovemaking from not few hours previous...leaving the image to course through his consciousness as she returned to her rest, her breath now sliding along the plain that led tantalizingly close to his navel.. _Had she done that deliberately?_

However, in all seriousness, the lesson here was clear...coming to him as more simple and consequencal then he had ever imagined such thing as this could be.... Perhaps he _**was **_much more human then he had originally though. And indeed, perhaps the humanity that dwelled within him was just as resilient and bold as in his pure human companions, and had just bided its time within his mind until he had needed it the most, coming to him as strong and as determined as his more disciplined and dominant Vulcan half.

The human part that dwelled within him, while troublesome and erratic, seemed as though it had its purpose, and for the first time in his life, he not only understood the full meaning of this strange and foreign gift, but he was appreciative for his humanity as well..._His mother would have been proud...._

_**A/N: I want to thank everyone who has been following this story! It is now completed. I must say it definitely continued on for far longer then I ever anticipated, however I suppose that that is the very nature of stories, you never know where the next rabid plot bunny will take you! It is rather similar to riding a very crazed and steroid overdosed bull bareback!**_

_***So, long memo made short, I appreciated each and everyone of your reviews and pms. You guys have been great!**_

_**A/N: Did you like this story? Review and let me know! As always, thanks for the reviews! I would also like to do a shout out to those of you who are reviewing anonymously; I would thank you personally if I could!**_ _**They have all not only been insightful but encouraging as well!**_

_**A/N: My chapter title is from Thriving Ivory's: "Twilight". I decided to take a break from John Barrowman and return to my 'Thriving Ivory' roots for the last chapter of this story.**_


End file.
